Sleep
by rukia-neesan
Summary: Byakuya still grieves for Hisana, but he has someone new to live for now. Even if she doesn't realize it.


I love Byakuya. He's such a complicated character, and it's great fun to try and figure him out.

xx

The Kuchiki manor is silent now, beams of moonlight the only illumination as Kuchiki Byakuya makes his way through the deserted hallways. His footsteps are unheard, his presence unfelt; as far as anyone else knows, their lord is fast asleep in his quarters.

This is just as Byakuya wishes.

Slipping past a courtyard, he looks out to see the moon reflected in the quiet pond. Hisana liked to sit on the bridge, he remembers, watching the koi swim and laughing quietly.

He liked to stand on the bridge next to her, watching Hisana.

He shakes his head, dispelling the thought before it grows sour, tainted with the still-too-recent loss of his beloved wife. He has something new to live for now.

Noiselessly, he pauses outside a particular door, stretching out his senses to meet the presence within. The room's occupant is asleep, but restless; he feels her cool _reiatsu_ flicker across him, tinged with a familiar feeling that he barely has a name for. _Grief?_ he wonders, then discards it. _Loss_ is a closer term.

They have both lost much in their lives, he knows; such is the way of Soul Society. He has lost his parents, so long ago that he can no longer remember their faces. Fifty years ago, he lost Yoruichi; he hadn't known until she left with Urahara how much he had grown to care for her. And merely a year ago-so little time here, where one can hope to live for centuries, and some have survived for millennia-he lost Hisana, the woman who had made him _alive, _more than he had been for a hundred years.

He wonders who _she _has lost.

He reaches for the _fusama_; his hand stops centimetres from the frame, and he looks at it uncertainly. Should he disturb her rest, when she so obviously needs it?

From within the room, he hears a soft cry. His heart clenches, and before he can stop himself, he slides the door open.

He shivers slightly; her _reiatsu_ has filled the room with a lingering chill, like the first breath of winter. Taking a deep breath, he steps inside.

She is curled into a ball, lying on her side; the soft, thick comforter has slipped off her small form, but she doesn't seem to mind. Her face-so like her sister's when she smiles-is pained, and she shudders in her sleep, but there are no tears.

He wonders what she is remembering.

Softly, he steps closer to the girl, kneeling beside her _futon_. Tenderly, he reaches out to brush a few strands of hair out of her face, smoothing his hand across her head.

She shifts in her sleep, startling him, but as he draws away, he hears her breathing steady. He smooths her hair back again, and again-gently, as if he were petting a kitten-and is rewarded by the sight of her face relaxing, the tension leaving her body as she slips into deep, dreamless sleep.

As he sits by her side, Byakuya smiles, for the first time in a long time. He thinks that it might be nice, after all, to have a little sister.

xx

Morning finds Rukia curled on the floor in a still-unfamiliar room; she sits up suddenly, wary of her surroundings, before remembering yesterday's events.

She is a Kuchiki now, nobility, graduated from the academy. Tomorrow, she will find out which squad she will be joining.

Looking around at the room-_her_ room, now-she notices three things.

One, her _fusama_ is slightly open, although she knows that she had closed it the previous night.

Two, there is a lingering scent of cherry blossoms in the air.

And three: although the room is cold, the floor directly next to her bed is warm, as though there had been someone kneeling at her side.

Rukia thinks of her new brother, but immediately discards the idea; he has shown no interest in her since his offer to adopt her, for whatever reason. From what she has heard, Kuchiki Byakuya is cold, emotionless; her own experiences with him, while brief, have cemented this image indelibly into her mind.

And so she wonders: just who was it who watched over her as she slept?

It will be years before she knows the answer. The one sitting there that night was not Kuchiki Byakuya.

It was her _brother._

xx

Short, but sweet. I hope to have the next chapter of Haunted ready to publish this afternoon; for now, I'm going to bed. _Oyasuminasai!_


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